


Sleeping Cutie

by jojoandpicnic



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Happy Ending, M/M, Marriage, Sleeping Beauty Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 22:14:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2404787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojoandpicnic/pseuds/jojoandpicnic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gilbert, Crown Prince of Germania, is thrown out of his home because he refuses to be wed. Out into the forest he travels, laughing about how he has to "mature." Until he stumbles upon a castle in which a young French prince sleeps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleeping Cutie

Once upon a time, there was a conceited jer—prince who didn’t give a damn about anything other than himself and banging hot chicks. Now, this conceited jer—prince had a brother. This brother got fed up with the conceited jer— To be clear, he was a conceited jerk. The brother got fed up with the conceited jerk. So, the brother— younger than the jerk—sent the jerk off into the woods, much to the latter’s dismay. This is where we start our story.

 “B-but, Luddie,” the jerk whined, “I dunnwanna! I wanna stay home and feed Gilbird and find some hot chick to bang and maybe get drunk off my ass later! You should join me and loosen up a little! Why do I have to go into the woods? They creep me out! Awesome people such as I shouldn’t need to go off into the woods! Are you even listening? Ludwig!”

Prince Ludwig sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. “Brother, this is for your own good. _Muter und Vater_ are getting tired of putting up with you with your irresponsibility. You do not own up to your duty as next in line for the thrown. They’re questioning if you’ll ever settle down with a wife and produce an heir. With the way you’re going, I doubt they’ll give you the thrown. This is for you, _bruder_. Hopefully you’ll reflect a little in the forest, and when you make it out you’ll settle down. We’re all worried for you.” All Gilbert could do was pout. Patting his shoulder, the younger brother led the jerk into the woods a little, as not to get lost. “Good-bye, Gilbert.” Ludwig turned and made his way out of the forest.

The conceited prince stood gaping after his brother for what seemed like forever, not believing his family would actually leave him out in the middle of the woods. “Well, that’s no fun,” he said aloud to himself after a while. It was eerily quiet, like every animal was sleeping. “Awesome,” he said aloud. “Awesome!” A little louder. “ _Awesome!”_ Loud. “AWESOME.” A yell. “AWESOME!” A shout. _“AWESOME!”_ A scream. Birds scattered in the surrounding trees. Dead silence. _Might as well explore,_ Gilbert thought to himself.

He set off in a random direction going on for what seemed like hours but it felt like he was getting nowhere. He trudged forward. By the time he came to his senses the sun was long gone. He had left home just after sunrise. His stomach growled. _Damnit,_ he thought, _where the hell can I find food in here? It’s a wasteland!_

Right now he was in a rather creepy part. The trees were twisted and dark, blackened dead leaves scattered the ground. An owl hooted nearby. No sign of food anywhere. _Well, this isn’t awesome._ Doing a three-sixty, he surveyed more of the area. Directly to his right he spotted a barely visible trail behind twisted shrubbery. Upon further inspection, he saw that the shrubbery spanned about a hundred feet and had a height of about fifty, save the thinned area he was standing before. A deadly hedge. 

Figuring “what the hell; there’s probably food up ahead”, Gilbert forced his way through the hedge, escaping with only minor cuts. _I bet unawesome losers before got so dead going through there, but they aren’t as awesome as me – of course, I’ve always been super awesome so the hedge liked me and hoped my awesomeness rubbed off on it. Yeah._  

Looking ahead, he saw the trail lead down a few hundred feet before stopping before a large, dark mass Gilbert couldn’t make out. Sighing about how unawesome this was, he moved forward. _If there isn’t any food involved in this, I think I’m gonna die unawesomely in this damn forest,_ the prince thought to himself. After what seemed like years, he came before the dark mass and saw that it was a draw bridge surrounded by matching watch towers. _What the hell is a castle doing out here?_

_… Wait… castle… that means there’s food in there! And hot chicks to bang!_ Gilbert made his way across the drawbridge – which was longer than he expected – and ended in a tunnel that led to a massive doorway. He kicked at it, hoping it would budge, but all it resulted in was making himself realize just how unawesomely dead-tired he was (and he swore, though that is minor). Gilbert sighed and sat at the base of the doorway, deciding that getting in the castle and his hunger pains could wait for the morrow. 

Within seconds he was asleep.

 

 

Gilbert woke to a bird trying to nest itself in his hair. “Ow! Ow, ow, ow!” He immediately stood, hopping and trying to get the bird out of his hair. “Stupid bird!” Then he saw a puff of yellow. “Oh! Gilbird! What the hell?” 

“Piyo, piyo,” the bird tweeted. It circled the prince’s head, then once again settled in the albino’s hair. 

“How’d you get out here anyways? Eh, whatever, let’s just get out of this tunnel.” He continued making his way towards the end. After a while, he saw light. If his stomach hadn’t been so empty he would have ran towards it, instead he hobbled on.

As he caught sight of what was inside the castle wall, he stopped dead in his tracks. A great hall stood, full of people and they all looked as if they all stopped in their tracks in (somewhat) hilarious poses. But it was off; they wore attire from a century ago and they had all had their eyes closed and some of them snored, though their mugs of beer were up in the air, cups still full, grins plastered to their faces. Some were balanced precariously on their toes, some only on one foot, dancing or falling, some were even mid-jump, up in the air, and some of the chubbier men had food in their mouths that still looked warm and fresh. That was Gilbert’s first stop. 

As he stuffed his face with food, he noticed that at the end of the dance hall was a secluded stair case, unlike the large, grand one at the other side of the room. “Piyo!” Gilbird flew towards the staircase and up.

“Hey! Come back here,” Gilbert yelled, choosing to ignore the mass of sleeping people around him. When the bird did not return, he got up from his food— oh, glorious food—and ran after it. Up the staircase he went and gave a fleeting pause toward the ajar door he met at the top.

Gilbert forced his way in and saw his bird trying to nest its way into golden hair; after giving the head sprouting the hair a few pecks that looked like it hurt. Still, the figure on the bed did not stir. Though, it was to his great relief that the person looked like it was in a correct sleeping position. 

Walking closer, he saw that the person had golden hair that went down to just below their shoulders, creamy skin, and rose-red lips. Though Gilbert couldn’t tell what color their eyes were, he saw they were fairly large, with long lashes. This was a chick—was it a chick?—who was worth talking to. 

“Hey, hey, person, wake up,” Gilbert said, shaking the figure slightly. When they didn’t stir, he said louder, “Hey, the awesome me is here! Talk to me! Wake up!” He patted the rosy cheeks slightly. “HEY,” he practically screamed in the person’s ear. No response. “Are you even female? Hmm…” Not feeling bashful at all, the arrogant prince reached his hand down and felt up the person’s chest.

Flat. As a board. Male. Definitely male. Damn.

“What! You’re male! C’mon! Wake up!” He started shaking the sleeping man’s shoulders. No reaction. Gilbert stared at the boy in the bed. He shared the same old-fashioned clothes as everyone else downstairs. Red eyes were drawn magnetically to red lips. Those kissable lips. “Damn, man, for a dude, you’re really pretty. Like a girl.”

“He is, isn’t he? I gifted him with his beauty when he was just a babe,” said an accented voice from behind. 

Gilbert jumped, turning. “Who’re you?” Then the prince stared. Standing before him was a man with unruly sandy-blonde hair and massive eyebrows. He wore a bright white toga and sandals that laced up to right below the knee. The thing that caught Gilbert the most was the wings protruding from the man’s back.

“You may call me Britannia Angel, boy. I watch over anyone who has a dream in mind. You fall out of that protection, Prince Gilbert. All you want to do is waste your kingdom’s money and be vulgar in your use of those poor girls you sleep with. You sicken me. You even felt up poor Matthew!” The man glared.

Gilbert chuckled. “So his name’s Matthew, eh?” The angel sputtered. “And anyways, I can’t help if those hot babes wanted a piece of the awesomeness that is _mir._ I do have a dream! It’s to sleep with as many sexy chicks I can!”

“I do worry for your kingdom,” the angel sighed. “That’s not a respectable dream! It’s sick and hardly gentlemanly! To think your Matthew’s—” he cut off, breathing hard. “Anyways, boy—” he glared—“you better clean up your act or I’ll send you off into those woods and personally make sure you don’t make your way out. _Ever._ ”

The prince smirked. “I think I like my ‘act’ the way it is right now, thank you very much. It’s a fun act. … But anyways, I’m Matthew’s what? And why is everyone asleep and wearing clothes from a century ago?” Gilbert showed genuine curiosity and concern. It was understandable – wandering around the forest and ending up in a castle filled with sleeping people who could be from a century ago.

Britannia Angel sighed and decided to subside some of Gilbert’s curiosity. “Okay, you bloody twit, I’ll tell you. The clothes they’re wearing? They really are from a century ago. That’s how bloody long they’ve, and Prince Matthew, have been asleep. I remember it as if it were just yesterday.…

 

 

_Once upon a time there was a king and a queen who longed for a child but never once conceived one. At long-last King Francis and Queen Jeanne finally had a child. A boy, whom they lovingly named Matthew. He was all they ever dreamed of and more. They held a celebration for all in the kingdom in honor of their son’s birth. To celebrate, Britannia Angel came and bestowed gifts upon the infant prince._

_As the angel approached the royals, he bowed and announced “Your majesties, I shall bestow four gifts, and only four, upon your lovely son.”_

_The first gift was of undeniable beauty. The crowd had “oo”ed and “ahh”ed at the gift appreciatively. The next was the gift of graciousness—no boy under the angel’s watch and guidance was going to grow up without proper manners. No sir, not at all. The third gift a more tangible gift. It was a white bear, alive, and the crowed jumped when it said, “Who are you?”_

_Britannia Angel explained patiently, ”Now, Kumajiro, the lad in the cradle is your master, Prince Matthew, son of King Francis and Queen Jeanne Bonnefoy of France.”_

_“Oh,” is what the bear replied. “Hungry,” it said._

_“Don’t be rude, Kumajiro,” the angel said. Seeing the queen’s half-horrified expression, the angel quickly talked. “The bear will not hurt the little prince. Think of Kumajiro as an extension of his little majesty’s soul; he will protect the lad until Prince Matthew is old enough to protect himself.”_

_Lazily, the polar bear trotted over to the cradle where Matthew was resting. “Bird,” it muttered, and then climbed in like there was no one in it. Though, much to the queen’s relief, it curled around the babe._

_“As the final gift I shall give is—” the angel was cut off by a strong, cold gust of wind._

_“It was very rude of you to forget to invite me, da?” An icy voice said from behind Britannia. The temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees. “I have a gift to give little Matvey, too. May I give it?”_

_“Like bloody hell you can curse the boy, Ivan. He’s under my protection,” the angel growled. Ivan simply waved his hand and Britannia went flying across the room._

_Ivan the Terrible Death was an evil sorcerer who lived on the outskirts of King Francis’ kingdom, thus explaining why he didn’t get an invitation. The invitation was for everyone_ in _the kingdom. He was known for bequeathing horrible curses to all he “favored”, and they all usually ended in a terrible death. Prince Matthew was no exception._

_The sorcerer swaggered towards the crib and Kumajiro growled, jumping at the cold man. The bear bit off a chunk of his neck and left a few scratches on his face. After a single flip of Ivan’s hand, Kumajiro joined the fallen angel, the poor bear’s neck broken. Ivan smiled childishly and no mortal made move to stop him, all frozen in terror._

_“Little Matvey, da? Da. I give you gift. When you turn sixteen you prick finger on spinning wheel. You die, da? Beauty should not stay on Earth long. No. Not long at all.” A glowing purple aura had formed around Ivan, and then died slowly as the curse took effect. In a blink of an eye, the sorcerer was gone._

_Queen Jeanne was beside herself in grief. Britannia was crestfallen as he approached the crib. “I-I…”_

_“My son… Can you undo this terrible curse?” King Francis tried, desperate._

_“N-no, but I can help.” The angel looked at the king for consent. He nodded. “Dear little prince, you shall prick your finger, but fall not in death but in sleep, only to wake to true love’s kiss.” Okay, yes, Britannia Angel was a biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit of a romantic. Only a bit. The angel turned to Kumajiro and fixed its broken neck. The bear was up and at the baby’s side in seconds._

_The congregation bowed their heads in silent prayer for the little prince._

 

_Well, a little more than fifteen years passed and the next day was Prince Matthew’s sixteenth birthday. Currently, our good natured prince was hiding from his tutor…_ again.

_It wasn’t Matthew’s fault—no, not at all—it was the tutor’s. He was getting lectured—_ again— _about how tomorrow he mustn’t “UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES” touch or even look at a spinning wheel. Matthew didn’t even know why everyone was freaking over spinning wheels for tomorrow. What was the big deal? It wasn’t as if he’ll die._

_“Matthew, lad, go back to your tutor,” a very familiar voice said from behind._

_“Sorry,” the prince said, sheepishly, “but he was giving me another lecture on spinning wheels again. Spinning wheels! Just what is everyone so obsessed about?”_

_Britannia sighed, “Lad, if it were my place to tell you I would. But take warning in what they say. Also, they’ll get the bear to sniff you out if you don’t reveal yourself soon.” The angel disappeared._

_“Ugh! Not Kuma… Kuma… Kumajinji!” Honestly! Having Matthew’s only friend sniff him out! Granted, neither human nor bear could remember their partner’s name, they were still friends._

_The young prince slipped out of his hiding place. Immediately he was spotted._

_“Ah, your majesty, Prince Matthew, there you are! Don’t disappear like that! What if you had found a spinning wheel and pricked your finger upon it! That simply wouldn’t do,” the royal tutor fussed._

_Matthew groaned inwardly, he hated the tutor; he was fat, annoying, and was strict on old tradition, and above all else he was_ obsessed _with the prince and spinning wheels. God! He wanted to behead the large man. Outwardly, he sighed, “I’m fine! Let’s just… move on.” The prince made his way down the hall._

_“Not until you promise to never look at a spinning wheel!”_

_“I promise.”_

_The next day, Matthew was awoken and prepared for tonight’s celebration. It was full of merriment and laughter, girls of nobility trying to get in his good graces. Not that Matthew minded. There was tons of dancing, feasting, and flirting._

_The young prince stepped away for a moment, catching his breath. An old beggar came and approached him. “Congratulations, highness,” he wheezed._

_“Thank you kindly, sir,” Matthew replied, minding his manners._

_“I have a gift, highness. It is the back room o’er yonder. A spinning wheel made of gold. Come, I’ll show you to it.” The beggar started to move, leading the prince towards the back room, a tower._

_Against his better judgment, Matthew followed. He had never seen a spinning wheel before and wanted to see what the big deal was. Reaching the top, the prince saw the golden spinning wheel. It was gleaming, the needle was the brightest. … Just one touch… just to feel how bright that needle was… was it as sharp as it looked… Matthew started reaching for it._

_“Is it to your liking, Prince Matthew?” The beggar’s voice cut through his reverie. The prince nodded._

_Almost… there…_

_Finally! The needle cut his index finger with a tiny prick. An agonizing scream ripped through Matthew’s throat as he fell to the ground, seemingly dead._

_“Da, is to my liking, too,” the beggar shed his disguise, leaving the evil sorcerer in his place. “Ah, comrade Matvey, enjoy death. Better than life, da. Do svidaniya.” Ivan left the room._

 

 

…After I found the lad, I set his in his bed,” Britannia gestured to the air. “Kumajiro found him soon after I, and I decided to put the rest of the kingdom to sleep as long as Prince Matthew does.” The angel looked forlorn. 

“So, let me get this straight. I kiss him, he wakes up, everyone else wakes up, I can get out of the forest, and everyone’s happy?” The narcissistic prince shrugged. “Well, okay,” he said walking to Matthew’s side. Kneeling in front of him, Gilbert caught himself. “Wait, I won’t be tied into anything, right? No marriage or love, got it?”

Britannia Angel was infuriated. “If you won’t care for Prince Matthew then don’t kiss him! He isn’t one of those whores you adore! The lad needs his true love not a conceited passer-by! To think you’re his damn soul mate! I can’t accept it!”

Gilbert held up his hands in mock defeat. “Dude, it’s not _my_ fault I’m awesome. Of _course_ he’d love me!”

Britannia grumbled and an idea struck him. He knew exactly how the prince would react to be woken by a stranger in such a way. The angel smirked. “Fine,” he said, “kiss him. Wake him, oh Awesome One.”

Gilbert did just that. Instantly the prince woke. A resounding _slap!_ echoed throughout the room. The arrogant prince was shell shocked. Someone _slapped_ him. Then he saw who slapped him.

It was the boy on the bed. Prince Matthew. The previously sleeping prince’s violet eyes were glaring. Both princes disliked each other immediately. “How _dare_ you wake me in such a way,” the usually polite prince accused.

“Well, you weren’t waking up with every other method. God! You’re such a laze; sleeping for a damn _century_. Even the awesome me isn’t _that_ lazy,” Gilbert shot back.

“I’m at least humble enough to _apologize_ for violating someone! What were you taught in manner school?” Matthew did not wake up on the right side of the bed at _all._

“Yeah, well—”

“ _Enough!”_ Both snapped their eyes towards Britannia Angel. “Matthew, lad, I am seriously disappointed in you. Gilbert can’t you show at least a little manners? You’re atrocious!” Gilbert rolled his eyes and glared at Matthew, who in turn, glared back. “Ugh! That’s it. You act like children, you get punished like children. Ten years stuck as the only humans awake on Earth! All will sleep for an hour literal time while you live ten years!”

“How does that even work,” Gilbert asked.

“It’s like the spell I put on France; time runs differently for them.” With that Britannia Angel vanished with a “see you in ten years!”

Both sighed, and then glared at the other.

 

 

It was a few weeks later that the pair got onto polite speaking terms and a daily routine set out. After two months they were close friends. Matthew still got angry over Gilbert’s ego, though. When the first year was up, the two princes were best friends that knew almost every dirty secret about the other. The soft-spoken prince was not happy with the knowledge of the loud-mouthed one’s affairs with various girls.

One would wonder why they would stay around the other; Gilbert could just as well leave and chill out in Germania for ten years with Gilbird and Matthew could stay in France with Kumajiro. They yearned for company, though, and being practically the only beings on Earth, they valued each other’s company. So they stayed.

 After more months, Gilbert remembered to tell the French prince about the changing world, making Matthew want to tour said world. So they did. Gilbert took Matthew to Germania as he called it, and showed Mattie, as Gilbert had dubbed the blonde, the sleeping faces of his family. After that, they toured Europe and Matthew had noticed how much the world really did change. They returned to the sleeping kingdom of France, and the French prince noticed he was used to the albino’s antics and ego. 

It took another two years for both to realize they were falling in love. At first they found themselves _cuddling_ one another one night, just enjoying their company. They had made it a habit without realizing. Slowly but surely, Gilbert calmed around Matthew, not wanting to piss the quiet blonde. When prompted by Mattie why he was so calm and mundane, he blushed and muttered “for you”.Around October of the seventh year, they got touchier; an occasional caress, more cuddling, an even bolder hug every so often. It freaked them out; they were falling in love with their best friend. The next year, both had come to terms with their love for the other, and somehow those feeling got across without a single kiss or “I love you”. It was about February of the ninth year when they started sleeping in the same bed; not sex, just sleeping. Two months later, Gilbert got up the courage to ask Matthew to marry him after the ten years were up. He had said it so nonchalantly over breakfast as if he were commenting about the food. Matthew said nothing as he smiled and walked over to the Germanic prince and kissed him on the cheek for the first time. That was yes enough. They continued on with their lives.

There was no talk of wedding plans, nor did anything change with their new engagement; they lived as they had for the past years. There was no new found romance, no dates, no kisses, and no sex. The farthest they ever got was the hugging and the kiss Mattie had once bestowed upon Gilbert’s cheek, striking the original wake-up kiss. And, oddly, Gilbert was complacent with it. 

If this had been “ten years” ago, he would have all ready “fucked Matthew’s ass off” with no feeling towards the French prince. Now that he was in love, it was like he was a new person. He was kind, yes, there was the occasional insult towards something, but never too rude. He was patient, except when he was waiting for his fiancé’s pancakes. He was… redefined. Not his former self. He was loyal to his lover.

This was why he stole away from France to Germania a few weeks before the ten years were up. He had to get something. Thankfully, his castle was only a few hours walking distance— go figure. He boldly walked into the castle and up to his previous room and rushed over to his chest of drawers, digging through the top drawer. _Sheisse, where is it? Where is—There!_ Gilbert produced a ring from the drawer. His _mutti_ had given it to him for when he decided to marry. A family heirloom. Of course, at the time the albino thought nothing of it and had tossed it into the drawer. He was glad he didn’t toss it out the window.

The ring was simple; thin gold band and violet gems pressed into it, two gems on either side of a larger one in the center. _It will go well with Mattie’s eyes,_ thought the prince lovingly.

Back then Gilbert disbelieved that any girl—especially one of the current aristocracy— would like such a simple ring. Now he understood. This was a ring for love. He couldn’t keep the soft smile off his faawce as he slipped back to France. Thankfully, Matthew hadn’t awoken.

 

 

It was “ten minutes” before the ten years were up. The princes were in the ballroom, dancing around the sleeping people. Gilbert didn’t want to stop, but he had to do something. He stilled, bringing his partner to an abrupt stop. Sliding onto one knee, he reached into his pocket to take out the ring. The blonde prince gasped.

“I know the first time I didn’t ask properly… so… Matthew, marry me?” The albino looked up to the other hopefully. Matthew had tears in his eyes, a smile working its way onto his face. 

“Yes…Yes!” He was laughing as Gilbert stood, grabbing his fiancé’s left hand, sliding the ring onto the blonde’s finger.

They stared into each other’s eyes, slowly closing them as they edged closer. Finally, their lips met in a chaste, loving kiss. They parted; identical grins on their faces. Their lips met again, kissing longer and deeper than the last. Gilbert wrapped his arms around his love’s waist, pulling Matthew closer as the other placed his hands on the albino’s shoulders. They broke the kiss and continued dancing in silence. They were so lost in their own world that they didn’t notice people awakening around them. The musicians continued where they left off a hundred years ago with a fast-paced jive. Upon seeing their crowned prince dancing slowly with a mystery-man they slowed it considerably. The lovers didn’t even notice.

Prince Gilbert would later deny that he jumped when a hand tapped his shoulder. The sudden halt (and jump) from his fiancé made Matthew glance over the Germanic prince’s shoulder. His eyes widened. 

“Papa!” The French prince launched himself into his father’s arms.

“Yes… it is me,” King Francis says, a bit bewildered. His son nuzzled his chest. “Matthew, darling, what has gotten into you?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Forgive me, please forgive me…” The blonde continued to mumble about how sorry he was and asked for forgiveness.

Gilbert came up behind his fiancé, patting his back. “Mattie, calm down, it’s okay. Crying is unawesome.”

Francis glared at the albino for touching his son calling him such a name. “Might I ask who you are, demon?” The man before the French king was, indeed, a demon. He had pale white skin, red eyes that seemed to pierce into your soul, and a rude smile. 

Gilbert blinked, and then grinned. “Oh, hi! I’m Gilbert the Awesome! You must be Mattie’s _vati_!” The prince held out his fist, and exclaimed “Pound it!”

Francis was disgusted by Gilbert’s brashness. “What does filthy scum have to do with my son?”

“’Filthy scum’? Oh, you’re asking for it ol—”

“ _I pricked my finger on a spinning wheel!”_ Matthew interrupted. “I’m sorry, father,” he continued, “I let you and the whole kingdom down.”

The albino prince felt a twinge of guilt, his devilish eyes softening. “Oh, Birdie, you couldn’t do a thing about it; it was set in stone. Plus, you wouldn’t have met the awesome me!”

“Why would you let us down, Matthew,” the king asked, glaring at Gilbert. “You’re awake! You didn’t die or fall asleep! Though, you did let this devil into the castle.”

The young blonde gulped nervously. “I did, Papa,” he said. “We were all asleep for a hundred years.” The French king’s eyes widened, along with the entire congregation of people, at the news.

“A hundred years,” a new voice whispered, distinctly feminine. Gilbert and Matthew looked over to see Queen Jeanne looking pale white.

"It's the truth, _Maman._ Gilbert came and woke me up te—an hour ago." A look of knowing was exchanged between the engaged couple. Even if they themselves felt it ten years, in reality it was but an hour.

"Gilbert?" The queen now held a look of confusion. Her son's eyes widened with realization.

"Oh, yes, well.... Um.... Papa, _Maman_ , this is Gilbert. Gilbert, these are my parents, King Francis and Queen Jeanne. I plan on.... Marrying him in.... The near feature..." his voice got quieter as he voiced his intentions.

"Back room. Now," the king growled. Matthew led the way, head down, his fiancé following behind with his head held high.

Once in the back room Francis turned to his son and practically growled, “Now, what is this I hear about marriage?"

Matthew fidgeted in place. "Ah, well, Gil and I have decided to get married."

"Matthew, my dear boy! Are you ready to make such a commitment? Did you not say he came and woke you an hour ago?" Jeanne was beside herself with befuddlement.

Matthew looked to his fiancé for help, who was being surprisingly quiet through all this. "You see, Queenie," Matthew practically planted his face in his palm when Gil addressed the queen, "When I sort of woke Mattie up, we didn't get along well so the angel dude sent us to ten years as punishment but in real time it was an hour. It really sucked; we never knew the time during our ten years together. So, we've pretty much been awesome best friends for what feels like forever! Plus, we’re perfect for each other; true love’s kiss and all.”

The king did not want to accept this. His darling son would not marry some rude boy! Francis was sure Gilbert was some lone commoner. "I see no proof of your engagement," Francis ground out, looking towards the albino's hands for the telltale ring.

The Germanic prince laughed, realizing the king had assumed Matthew was the one who proposed and the "man" in the relationship. Gilbert was not some pansy-assed girl who wore rings with pretty jewels and was the receiving end of the relationship. Yet.

Gilbert sought out the French prince's left hand, bringing it up to kiss it. He extended their entwined hands to Francis, showing off the ring. "This proof enough for you," Gilbert asked cheekily as a dainty pink blush spread across his fiancé's face.

"Which noble did you steal that one from," Francis rudely snapped, not trusting the albino.

"What noble," Gilbert snorted, "It was chilling in my sock drawer!"

"Excuse me? It was in your sock drawer," Queen Jeanne stated.

"Yep! Awesome place to keep a family heirloom, right?"

The blonde prince sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Matthew, I can't let you marry him! He's insane and a thieving liar," Francis burst. "He's probably some poor farm-boy that lives on the outskirts of France!"

Gilbert snapped, "For one, France doesn't even exist anymore! A month or so after your castle disappeared, Germanic troops invades and claimed the rest of France. You probably won't make a come-back." Francis looked like he was about to kill a puppy at the news, then deeply saddened. "And two: I'm not some 'farm-boy'. I have a proper title." Realizing he just insulted his future father-in-law; he just said Francis wasn't a ruler of a country and practically stripped of his royal status and land.

Matthew looked at Gilbert angrily. "Gilbert! I told you we needed to ease the idea of it into my Papa's head! How would you like it if you woke from a hundred-year-old nap and discovered Germania was taken over by another country? That you were stripped of status and power?"

Gilbert looked over sadly to Francis and Jeanne, who was comforting her husband, then back to his fiancé. "You know I know what it's like to be stripped of my power, Mattie. It was the whole reason I was in the forest. Luddie said if I came back without a 'more levelheaded' head and ready to settle down then I was as good as dead. I didn't mean to just blurt it out! The awesome me would never do that intentionally, but your father just got on my nerves! Shit… Forgive me?" Gilbert wrapped his arms around the blonde, kicked-puppy face intact.

Matthew rolled his eyes but nodded.

Francis got over his shock and the king and queen turned to the young couple. "I see that my son will not be swayed from marrying you," the older blonde looked displeased. "So I suppose I should announce the wedding to the crowd. Pleasure to meet you… I think… I am King Francis Bonnefoy of France. I.... Look _forward_ to getting to know you." The king held out his hand, albeit hesitantly.

The couple was joyful; the evidence was the matching grins adorning their faces. Francis approved! Gilbert looked to Matthew, who nodded. Gilbert strode forward, clasping his hand in Francis' and gave it a shake. “Crown Prince Gilbert Beilschmidt of Germania,” he announced to the king, a little more than smug. "Thank you for allowing me to marry Birdie." Said prince raised his eyebrows at Gilbert's sudden politeness but didn't speak.

Francis and Jeanne looked awkward and embarrassed about the way they originally thought of their son's fiancé. The albino man held more power than themselves and they were ungracious!

The king coughed and said, "Yes, well, let's go announce your engagement." Francis led the way out.

All the guests paused their festivities, waiting for the king to initiate the merry time celebration. Francis cleared his throat. “My loyal subjects: what my son, your Crown Prince Matthew, said earlier was true. He pricked his finger on a spinning wheel and we all slumbered for a century. This man,” he gestured to Gilbert, “is Crown Prince Gilbert of Germania, and he came and awoke our prince. Let us turn our celebration of a birthday to a celebration of an engagement! Let us be merry! Let our prince and our savior be wed within a week! Hear, hear!”

“Huzzah!” The crowd cheered and continued with their merrymaking and congratulated the couple. Gilbert saw the French king grimace, and he knew that his soon to be father-in-law was still not happy with the arrangement.

 

 

They were married within two days. Tailors scurried about trying to make the marriage attire perfect for the couple. They especially had a hard time with the albino prince’s clothing. Gilbert insisted on nothing but modern clothes, and as such Gilbert had to show the French tailors the latest fashion. Matthew was perfectly fine with the more traditional garb. Cooks scoured for a more abundance of food for the wedding feast. Décor was perfectly done with the commoner’s help. 

And so, Matthew and Gilbert were wed with the finest French finesse. It was the most perfect thing in their lives; they were finally, _finally_ going to have sex that night. They could not wait fast enough. Ten years of waiting and the occasional display of affection.

Yeah, this will be a night to remember.

 

 

Gilbert congratulated himself the next morning. This was the first time he slept with a partner the whole night long after having sex. Usually he got up and left after two minutes of just sitting there. 

The albino rolled over and looked at Matthew. His husband. Gilbert was _married_. This was not what Gilbert ever imagined doing. But nonetheless, he was married to his best friend and soul mate. The prince felt a happiness he never thought he would feel; in his heart it bloomed and there was a weightless sensation in his head. There was an unfamiliar pressure on his left hand finger where he knew a white gold band now resided; it was welcomed. It showed that he was his Birdie’s and his Birdie was his. 

Matthew blinked his eyes sleepily, a lazy smile easing its way onto his lips as he caught sight of Gilbert. “Good morning, Gil,” he said tiredly.

“Morning, Matt. Wanna make the awesome me pancakes?” Gilbert put on his usual annoying smirk.

Matthew huffed. “Really, Gil? That’s the first thing that comes to mind as our first day of actually being m-married?” A light blush crept onto the blondes cheeks. “Ask one of the cooks; I don’t want to get up.”

“Awe, Birdie,” the albino complained. “They don’t make them as good! I want yours!” Gilbert leaned over and pecked his husband’s cheeks.

Matthew pinked at the compliment and sat up only to immediately regret it as pain made its way up his back. He sighed, “Fine, okay,” and got off the bed to don a new set of clothes.

The Germanic prince smiled cheekily. “Yay! Pancakes for the awesome me!”

“Yeah, if the cooks even let me in the kitchen,” the blonde muttered.

They didn’t. And Gilbert was upset.

 

 

The next day, the Germanic prince decided Matthew needed to meet his family properly. Matthew readily agreed, though the king and queen required a little more convincing. They finally decided on going tomorrow, leaving in early morning.

So, the newlyweds set out for Gilbert’s castle at dawn. They reached the outskirts in about two hours. Gilbert suddenly stopped and said aloud, “Oh, yeah, the awesome me has only been gone for, like, a week! Come on, Birdie, we’re taking another way in.”

He took them off the path to some underbrush and revealed a trap door. “I found this when I was ten—from the inside, though. I usually use this to go out into the village to find some fun. Careful of the cobwebs; they are so not awesome!” Gilbert led the way, with his husband following behind, letting the albino lead the conversation. “You’re gonna love Ludwig’s _friend_ Feli. You can talk about cooking or shit like that. Ludwig isn’t as awesome as me, though. Very straight-laced, stick up the ass. Not awesome.”

Matthew giggled. “You shouldn’t talk that way about your brother, Gil.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

After a moment longer of walking, the two came to the end of the tunnel and Gilbert pushed the trapdoor open. Out they stepped into an immensely decorated, greatly embellished, and really, really empty hallway. Empty armor stood at attention, the marble floors gleamed and shined. It was immensely different than Matthew’s home in France. 

“Wow,” the blonde breathed, and Matthew was sure he had said that the first time he entered the castle.

Gilbert smirked. “Home, sweet, home.” Matthew smiled at that.

At that moment, a door opened and out stepped a tall blonde man. Immediately he spotted the couple. “Gilbert,” the man exclaimed. “What the hell are you doing here? What are you—oh, get in here!” He motioned for Gilbert to follow him into the room.

The albino complied, dragging a curious Matthew from behind. Gilbert and Matthew took places on a spotted love-seat while the stoic blonde sat in a chair across.

“Explain. Now,” he growled.

The albino prince smirked. “I met someone. They’re all I could ever ask for. So, I thought the awesome me should introduce them to my family. Awesome, right?”

“Gilbert, you know as well as I do that the moment you sleep with them, you’ll immediately lose interest. I don’t care if they’re waiting outside right now. Turn them away; your feelings aren’t true and I know you’re not the marrying type. Then, _Vatti und Mutti_ can get you a marriage partner that won’t care for you and you won’t care for back.” The man looked at Gilbert sternly, and noticed that his elder brother was getting a bit mad.

“Ludwig, what sort of spouse would I be if I left my husband after our wedding night? Not awesome at all. Matthew means the world to me and if you can’t accept that, then we’ll leave. I am married. I love my husband. Don’t tell me otherwise. Got it?” It wasn’t often that Gilbert was serious, but when he was, even Ludwig was scared. 

“Y-you’re _married? !_ I thought you were just thinking about it! And to a man? _Bruder,_ have you gone insane? I want to meet this man, if he somehow coerced you into marriage.” Ludwig looked genuinely shocked.

Gilbert smiled and stood, “Ludwig, this is my awesome husband, Prince Matthew Bonnefoy of France. Mattie, this is my bro, Luddie.” Ludwig frowned at such an improper introduction, and then noticed the man next to Gilbert he hadn’t seen before.

Ludwig felt like a fool! Saying such things in front of the spouse! 

“Nice to meet you, Ludwig,” Matthew spoke, quietly, breaking the ice. “Gilbert has told me interesting things about you.” The blonde smiled, thinking back to when he first saw the Germanic blonde. Ludwig had been asleep then, and Gilbert had put a stick up his nose until Matthew had made the albino pull it out.

Ludwig stared at the pair in front of him. There was Gilbert; loud, annoying, egotistical Gilbert, and then there was Matthew. The German man analyzed him. The blonde was quiet, unsuspecting, polite. While Gilbert was bursting with energy and rudeness, Matthew was calm and almost seemingly blending to the background. How Matthew managed to get hold of his brother’s attention and keep it enough to actually convince him into marriage, Ludwig did not know. The couple were complete opposites! 

“Likewise, Prince Matthew. You’re from where again,” Ludwig asked, finding his voice.  

“France,” the blonde said, shyly. He was unsure of what Ludwig’s reaction would be when he found out Matthew was the prince of a long dead kingdom.

“France hasn’t been a country for a hundred years,” the Germanic prince said curtly. Turning to Gilbert, he angrily said, “Gilbert, just because they say they’re royalty doesn’t mean that they are. Especially if they give you the name of a fake country. That should set off an alarm. You’re an idiot.”

Gilbert smirked and slung an arm around his husband. “Matthew is the prince of France. Didn’t the awesome me say he was a Bonnefoy? I thought you knew everything. Are you saying you didn’t know what happened to the lost French family? Needless to say, the awesome me likes older men.” The albino prince winked lewdly, watching his French husband blush a pretty pink. 

Ludwig was, on the whole, deeply confused. “What do you—”

“Oh, hey! Matt, we gotta get to my room! I have the awesomest thing I want to give you! C’mon!” Gilbert dashed out of the room, not quite wanting to get into that topic with his brother yet. Matthew followed behind at a more reasonable pace.

“Hey, wait, brother,” Ludwig called after him, but it was too late.

By now, the hall was more populated, and the maids and servants were shocked to see the rambunctious albino back so soon.

They stared a little more when they heard him talking to a mysterious blonde beside him. Prince Gilbert was prattling about where the floor came from, how the armor was crafted, and how old everything was and how it was built. Who knew that the prince knew so much? Honestly, all the maids thought that the farthest Gilbert’s knowledge went was how to get into someone’s skirt. 

They were a corridor away from the Germanic prince’s room when Gilbert yawned loudly and proclaimed loudly, “Damn, I need a nap.” Matthew rolled his eyes, as did the rest of the maids in the corridor, though for different reasons.

To most all the maids, “nap” meant “I want sex”. To Matthew, “nap” meant “nap”. No innuendoes mentioned at all. He was used to this saying, after hearing in just about a thousand times during their time spent in solitary confinement. Immediately after Gilbert would say that, he would find the nearest bed and go right to sleep. This time was no different for Gilbert and Matthew. 

“Walk faster, then, Gil,” Matthew snorted, smiling. “That bed isn’t running up to meet you any time soon.” The maids passed him odd looks. Was he encouraging the prince to have sex in the middle of the hall? And with who, the mystery blonde himself? 

“Yeah, yeah,” Gilbert brushed off. “C’mon, Birdie! I still gotta show ya something!”

They were in the albino prince’s room in seconds flat. Gilbert bounded off somewhere in the large suite as Matthew took a seat on a near-by couch. Matthew had seen the room when they had first visited, and it literally hadn’t changed. There were blue and black themes seen on the tapestries and fabrics of the various furnishings throughout the room, a large bed that took up a quarter of the space. Gilbert had told Matthew with a proud grin that he had slept with thirty different girls on that bed, to which Matthew averted his eyes with disgust. That feeling still stood. 

“Found it!” Matthew heard Gilbert yell, followed by a laugh. Gilbert grabbed onto the French prince from behind. The blonde yelped and more of the albino prince’s laughter filled the room. “The awesome me proudly presents my awesome husband a gift!”

Gilbert held out an object grinning like a madman. In his hand was a silver pocket watch embedded with rubies in the shape of a bird. It was beautiful. “Whoa,” Matthew breathed. Gilbert smirked, attaching the watch to his spouse’s clothes and resting it in Matthew’s pocket. “Thanks, Gilbert.”

The albino pecked Matthew on the cheek. “Love you, Birdie,” he whispered. Gilbert stood and helped his counterpart up. “Come on! You gotta meet my parents!” The Germanic prince pulled the blonde out of the room and into the hall. “They should be in the throne room around now, so let’s check there. They’ll love you, Matt!”

“I thought you wanted a nap?”

“It can wait!”

 

 

Upon reaching the throne room, Gilbert barged in as if there probably wasn’t something serious going on in there. “The awesome me is home~!” He smirked and marched straight up to his sitting parents, Matthew by his side.

In actuality, the royal rulers were, in fact, not doing anything important. They sighed inwardly and stood to greet their problem child. “Gilbert,” they greeted in unison. 

“What are you doing here,” his mother questioned. “Were you not supposed to go out to learn the hardships of life? It seems to me you have not changed. You were aware the moment you step into this castle means that you are ready to settle down, correct?” Gilbert nodded, smirking. He made move to speak until the queen interrupted him. “That means you are to go along with whoever we choose and produce a proper heir. Though, we understand you will be less than faithful; just be careful with it, Gilbert. Along with that, you will take on the responsibilities you have been shirking, got it?”

Gilbert would not allow himself to be interrupted again. “Well, _Mutti_ , I’ve sort of already found someone…” he trailed off, not quite sure how to explain.

“You found someone gallivanting about in the woods,” his father said, disbelievingly. Gilbert nodded. The king “humph”-ed, “Your interest in them will fade in two weeks, son. You’ll just leave them broken-hearted.”

“Father, I am in love. It’ll last, trust me… plus, me and Matt are sort of married…” Gilbert rubbed his arm in something akin to bashfulness. Matthew grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“ _Married,_ ” his mother screeched. “You married without us? I do not care if this whore is fabulous at fornicating, Gilbert, but one does not decide to get married after one great throw of passion. I, also, do would not have liked to meet your bride as a daughter so soon. It was less than a week! Send her away.”

“I only slept with Matt once, _Mut—Ow!”_ Gilbert rubbed the back of his head. The guards—that were totally _not_ eavesdropping—stood at attention. “Damn, Mattie, what was that for?”

“Oh, great, he’s married to an imaginary person,” his father muttered. That was until he heard it speak.

“Gilbert!” Matthew was less than pleased. “Why do you go around telling everyone our sex life? And why does everyone assume we had sex before wedlock? Well, anyways, don’t do that anymore!”

Gilbert chuckled about how cute his lover was being, which only made said lover pout in what was supposed to be “menacing” but only made him cuter. “Okay, okay; I won’t speak about it anymore.”

“Promise,” Matthew responded, knowing it was the only way to actually keep Gilbert from repeating it. Hey, who knew the albino kept his promises? 

The Germanic prince pouted but said, “I promise, Matt. Geez.” Matthew smiled and had it returned. 

Meanwhile, the queen was going redder and redder with rage. The king?—oh, he didn’t seem to care, but who knew with the expressionless king. “You married a man, Gilbert? Of all the things to do! You do not love this common man; especially one so controlling. Honestly, Gilbert. Now tell me for sure, have you had sex with this sodomite only once? Did you marry him _only_ to have sex with him?”

Gilbert went to answer but glanced to his husband. The glare the blonde was currently sending said something along the lines of “You mention anything of sex I will have to castrate you”. The albino prince gulped and answered carefully, “I married him because I am in love with him, _Muter._ What we do with our relationship is up to us.” He glanced back to Matthew, seeing if he answered correctly. The French prince looked pleased. 

Score one for the Awesome One!

His unawesome dad had to ruin the moment. “Gilbert,” he said curtly. “Your mother and I do not approve. We have picked your marriage partner and she is here. You will meet her at dinner. Period.”

“Bu—”

“Period.” The king glared down at his son. 

Gilbert at first looked very angry, but as Matthew took his hand the expression changed to sad to depressed before settling on disappointment. “C’mon, Mattie,” he grumbled, leading Matthew out of the throne room muttering all the while about how sorry he was about his unawesome parents. 

 

 

Two hours later signaled the beginning of dinner. Matthew had somewhat calmed Gilbert down with a make-out session, and had convinced Gilbert to come to dinner. When they arrived at the dining hall, they saw the king and queen already seated, glaring daggers at Matthew.

There were five place settings, each one with a name-card on it. Two were occupied. None had any indication that they were for Matthew. Gilbert looked at each name-card. His awesome name, Luddie’s, and when he saw the last one he was in rage that it was for Mattie but then in disbelief for whose name was actually there.

Gilbert turned slowly to his parents, a cold gaze directed at them. “Firstly, why the hell isn’t there a setting out for Matthew? Secondly, _Elizabeta?_ What the hell; _seriously?_ ”

His mother, looking cross, replied, “That _peasant_ you call a husband shall not be eating with us at the table – if he is hungry, he can eat with the scullery maids. And, yes, Gilbert. _Elizabeta_. She will make a fine bride for you.”

Gilbert looked as if he had a few choice words he had to say until Matthew grabbed his arm. “Gilbert, it’s fine; let me just share with you.” Gilbert looked a bit happy but nodded hesitantly. Gilbert took his seat, with Matthew next to him. The royals did not look pleased.

Just then, Ludwig stormed in looking annoyed. “ _Bruder!_ Where have you been? I wasn’t done talking to you and you just ran out on me! Explain your comment. Now.”

“Which one,” Gilbert asked, happy to have the tension broken. “I said many things about Mattie, would you clarify?”

Ludwig looked like he was about to blow a blood vessel. Thankfully, or unthankfully, he never got to it. Why? Elizabeta decided to glide in. The queen stood to greet her. “Ah, Eliza! Thank you for being here, as Gilbert came by on such short notice. Gilbert,” she addressed him, coolly, “say hello to your fiancée.”

“Lizzie,” Gilbert snarled. 

“Gilly,” Elizabeta growled back.

_So they know each other,_ Matthew thought to himself. _Not so happy memories, I’m sure._ The albino glared at the woman, who was all too happy to glare back. Elizabeta seated herself. Matthew took his time analyzing this woman. Her hair was brown and her eyes green, she had an air to her that made her seem less like a proper lady and more like a feminine man. She was very beautiful, yes, but her aura just set it all off.

“Oh, happy couple, happy couple,” the Germanic queen murmured. “When do you two want to set the date?” The first course came; a wonderful way to start a tense meal.

Gilbert took a few bites and then shoved his plate towards Matthew, signaling him to eat. Swallowing, Gilbert stated bluntly to Elizabeta, “I’m not marrying you, Liz. Not now or ever.”

Elizabeta spat back, “I don’t want to either, _Gilly,_ but this is how life goes. What, are you too awesome? Grow up.”

“I’m not too awesome for marriage,” Gilbert replied, smirking at her surprise. Matthew passed the plate back to Gilbert, who ate more. Elizabeta wore a look that said “explain,” so Gilbert, being the ever awesome person he is, did so. “I’m married, Liz.”

“And I’m secretly harboring feelings for you. Anything else that’s new? Perhaps something… realistic?” The green eyed woman glared.

Smirking, Gilbert raised his left hand, proudly showing off the silver band on his ring finger. “So, what was that about feelings for me, Lizzie? I regret to say the awesome me doesn’t return them, nor is he free.” Matthew blushed. 

“Gilbert,” his mother barked. “Do not talk about nonexistent spouses at the table. I can barely tolerate that one just sitting here.” The second course came out; the tension was still just as bad.

“Matthew should _not_ be looked over, Mother.”

“Who’s Matthew,” Elizabeta cut in. Gilbert passed his plate to Matthew, who didn’t touch the food, seeing as Gilbert didn’t. Who could, with this sort of conversation occurring?

“Gilbert! See what you have done! You called unnecessary attention to an unimportant matter. You should be more like Ludwig.” Every eye glanced to the stoic and silent blonde. “Let us just drop this one error and set a date.”

“Gilbert!” The king said loudly, then quieter, “Listen to your mother.”

“I’m married, Mother. Whether you choose to acknowledge it or not,” he said, sending a harsh glare in her direction. The albino then turned to Elizabeta. “Matthew is my husband, Liz. He’s right here, next to me.” Elizabeta seemed to be surprised at how Gilbert managed to conjure someone out of thin air. “Go ahead, Birdie, Lizzie doesn’t hurt cute things.” Said “Birdie” blushed.

“I hurt you, instead,” Elizabeta mumbled. “Hello, Matthew, I’m Duchess Elizabeta Hedevary of Hungary. Gilbert,” she glared at the albino briefly, “and I were… friends in childhood. An honor to meet someone so cute.” She smiled. 

Matthew smiled meekly and introduced himself _properly,_ since his husband didn’t. “Nice to meet you, Duchess. I am the Crown Prince Matthew Bonnefoy of France. Gil and I sorta met… five days ago… and have been married three…” His already quiet voice trailed off as he told of his ‘great romance’.

By now, Ludwig was bedside himself with curiosity on why the boy referred to himself as French. Continually. “Matthew,” he started. “Why do you refer to yourself as a Prince of France, yet it is not a country?”

“Can we please give less attention to that man,” the queen screeched. “It is a delusional liar. Just guess how many times it has been married with that line? Not more than a week, I should say. We should just behead it now.”

Matthew… he was, well, done with the politeness. There’s only so much he could take. Gilbert sensed it, and it stirred up bad memories of a time he accidentally pissed his then friend off. That boy had gone on for _four hours_ about every flaw Gilbert had; needless to say, it ruined his awesome ego a bit. And then he remembered what happened after he was done ranting; Matthew went out into the woods and tore down trees _with his bare hands_. Okay, so maybe not bare handed, but it was just as bad. “Matt,” Gilbert warned. “Calm down; don’t do anything irrational. It’s not awesome.”

Everyone glanced at Matthew; he looked normal. “He does not look any different. Besides, irrational behavior is accustomed to mad-folk.” The queen did not know what was coming. At all.

Matthew stood quickly, banging his fists on the table. “I will _not_ be spoken about in such a manner! I am _married_ to Gilbert whether you like it or not.” Everyone was in newly dead silence from the outburst of a seemingly calm man. “When I entered this beautiful castle, eager to meet my husband’s family, I had prepared for the objections, but not this! I was prepared to prove my credibility, to prove my love, to prove I am the right man for Gilbert. I _hadn’t_ prepared for, though, the utter disregard from his mother. I _hadn’t_ prepared for the threats. I _hadn’t_ prepared for the complete _shunning_ from the family.” Matthew then cast his gaze pointedly on the queen. “You, _madame_ , should be ashamed of yourself. If my mother were here, my sweet and kind mother, she would have questioned your nobility from the first accusation. A sincere queen would have at least had a place setting out for _any_ person – rich, poor, sick, healthy, mean, nice, hooker, or missionary. Instead, you insult me, the newest member of your family.” He fixed his stare on the king. “I love your son, whether you like it or not. Deal with it. And control your wife.” He looked at Elizabeta, loosing some of the hard edge of his voice. “I’m sure you are as kind as my _maman_. But be assured I won’t give Gilbert up for _anyone_. I’m sorry you were troubled to come here from Hungary only to meet a ranting French prince.” Finally, Ludwig came under his scrutiny, though Matthew’s words weren’t unkind. “Ludwig, Gilbert has told me much about you. For a strict person, I am assuming you are very frustrated from not receiving an answer from earlier. I _am_ the Crowned Prince of France. The castle is the woods. Was I forgetting anything, Ludwig?” 

The table had a tense silence about it. The queen was shocked that someone had _dared_ to double-cross and embarrass her. Someone had _dare_ to scold her. To push her faults in her face. The king was embarrassed to say the least. Elizabeta was glowing, happy even. Ludwig was figure out any other questions he had. 

Gilbert? He was shocked Matthew kept it so short. The blonde was finally learning how to control his temper. Nonetheless, Matthew walked over to the fireplace in the room and picked up a side log to snap in half. He calmly walked back to his seat and happily said to his husband with a smile, “Anger gone!” And just in time; the third course came.

It was silent for a few moments until Ludwig cut in. “Oh, yes, Matthew; Gilbert mentioned something earlier about liking older men. What did he mean?”

Matthew blushed deep red as his husband laughed boisterously. “I... uh… I’m sort of… One-hundred and sixteen years old…” The blonde prince blushed deeper. 

“Excuse me?” The Germanic prince looked perplexed. “How does one come to be one-hundred sixteen and look as young as you do?”

“I was… sleeping for a very long time. The person who put me to sleep was already one-hundred twenty-three when I was born. He should be dead by now.” Matthew scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Who puts another to sleep for so long,” Elizabeta asked, intrigued.

“Ah, well… he had planned to kill me, but the Angel put me to sleep instead,” the French prince responded, glad the king and queen were not partaking in the conversation.

“Who is he,” Ludwig asked, being pulled into it more than he would have liked.

Matthew couldn’t bring himself to say that dreaded name, so he looked to Gilbert for help. “Ivan the Terrible Death,” Gilbert answered gravely. His husband paled at the name. There was a sharp intake of breath from the king.

All eyes were on him, looking for an explanation. “Ivan was, uh, killed by some of my men some twenty-odd years ago. They burned his ashes and what-not; the Britannia Angel took care of details.”

Immediately, almost by reflex, Gilbert growled, “Don’t mention that bastard by name.”

“ _Who_ is the bastard,” questioned a smooth, accented voice from the opposite end of the dining table. Gilbert glared. Britannia looked over to Matthew. “Nice to see you, lad. I hope Gilbert hasn’t done anything to upset you recently.” Matthew shook his head quickly. “Okay, then. Anyways, Matthew, you left Kumajiro behind. What have I told about leaving without him?”

“To not to,” the blonde mumbled. “It’s unsafe. Come Kuma,” he called out, as if it were protocol. Almost instantly, the bear appeared next to his master. Gilbert scooted his chair further away from the creepy bear. 

“Who,” the bear asked. The queen and Elizabeta yelped when they saw the little bear talk. 

Matthew sighed. “I’m Matthew, the one who feeds you. Honestly, Kumasauce.”

“I thought it was Kumajiro,” the Hungarian wondered aloud, getting over her earlier shock. “He’s adorable, by the way.”

“Oh, is it? I can never remember. Kumapolis never seems to remember me, either.” Gilbert rolled his eyes at Matthew’s forgetfulness; he had long since learned to ignore the blonde’s names for the bear. They were never the same, though the “Kuma” part stayed constant.“Isn’t that right, Kuma?”

“Hungry,” it replied, and not a second to soon; the fourth course—steak—was out. Matthew felt bad at the wasted food no one seemed to be eating, but Kuma seemed happy eating everyone’s leftovers.

“Don’t let him pig himself out, lad,” Britannia cut in.

“He’s fine, mom,” Gilbert said, sarcastically. “Matthew knows when the bear has had enough.”

“You bloody twit, I’m just reminding him! Don’t make me punish you again? Maybe twenty years with _no one_ around?”

“You damn bastard, you didn’t have to subject us to ten years alone? What sort of sick jerk does that to people regularly? Apparently you,” the albino prince outburst. “It really screws with people’s heads, asshole.” He glared at the angel.

“If I didn’t do that you would have stayed the same conceited arse you were barely a week ago! _And_ you wouldn’t have fallen in love with dear Matthew. You should be on your knees giving me your thanks a billion times over!” By now, Brittania had stomped over to Gilbert and looked as if he were to slap him. 

“What is this about punishment and ten years?” the queen asked, finally speaking after Matthew’s outburst.

Matthew was the one to answer, surprisingly. “Well, when Gilbert woke me up I kind of slapped him,” he started, and was surprised when Elizabeta made a pleased expression. “We got off on the wrong foot. We pretty much hated each other, so the Angel subjected us to ten years solitary confinement; time ran differently for us. It wasn’t until the third week in that we could stand talking to each other. And, uh, yeah, we got married.” An awkward pause. “Also, my parents should be arriving in a few days.”

From that point onwards, dinner became a quiet affair. It went off without another hitch. They ate in silence, the Angel not having to eat and the couple sharing and giving Kuma whatever they didn’t eat. 

Dinner had just dispersed and Gilbert once again dragged Matthew off into the castle. Thankfully for the blonde, it wasn’t far.

“Now, Birdie,” Gilbert said, for once in a hushed tone. “You’ve gotta be super quiet or else he’ll stop.” The albino led them into the grand ballroom of the castle. Pink marble covered the floor and blue marble made up the walls with white pillars scattered along the room. It made one think they had stepped onto clouds.

 At the opposite end of the room was a pure white grand piano with obsidian and ivory keys. Someone was seated at the piano and looked as if he was just finished warming up. The man seated had dark brown hair with an odd curl sticking out, though Matthew was one to talk with his own curl. He wore glasses and had a mole on his chin. He began playing and it was a sweet trilling tune that spoke of young love.

It was the most perfect thing the French prince had ever heard. Matthew snapped out of his trance when his husband pulled him into a waltz that swept him off his feet and made him feel weightless. It was like he really was dancing on clouds in this magical ballroom. 

“Matt,” Gilbert whispered. “I love you.” The albino man smiled the uncharacteristic smile he put on anytime he was sincerely happy.

Matthew loved seeing it.

“I love you, too, Gil,” he replied, a sweet smile made its way onto his face. The smile was sweeter than the cotton candy room around him.

And they danced on.

 

 

Like promised, Matthew's parents traveled to Germania two days later. Gilbert's parents greeted them with a politeness that bordered on hostile. The royals hated the French royals immediately. Eventually, Britannia Angle had to intervene. He settled their differences and vouched for Francis's and Jeanne's legitimacy as royal blooded. Gilbert's parents eventually became to the idea of their son being married to a man. After five years, they warmed up to Matthew and agreed to crown him queen in the future. Matthew wasn't happy at being crowned queen—he was a man, and a prince—but was happy for his in-law's approval.

Elizabeta married Gilbert's cousin, Roderich, the man who played the piano every night. They lived happily ever after as Duke and Duchess of Germania. Ludwig ultimately came-out to his parents and confessed that he was dating Feliciano, his secretary. They begrudgingly let their last hope of a son marry the Italian, forgoing the fact that the peppy man was not royalty.

The problem of an heirless kingdom was solved when one of the Angel's storks dropped a baby between a cuddling Matthew and Gilbert one day. The baby boy looked like Matthew except for every single one of his expressions. Down to the smile, they were all Gilbert. The couple was annoyed that the Angel just dropped the kid in one day, but loved the child with all their hearts. When asked the origins of the boy, Britannia replied, "Magic."

And they finally lived happily ever after.

For real, this time.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is taken over from our FF.net account. However, this is edited and is different (and in my opinion better) than the original on FF. Also, this is posted as a oneshot as opposed to the 12 chapters it is on FF because I feel it reads easier than being broken up the way it was. Well, yeah, hope any new readers like it! :)


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